


we're all winners

by holographiccs



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: American Football, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life, but it's ok because he's pretty, george doesn't understand american football, no beta we die like george in manhunt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:42:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28696401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holographiccs/pseuds/holographiccs
Summary: “How about,” George cuts in, nuzzling his cheek against Sapnap’s soft jumper, “whenever your team scores, you get a kiss?"“Oh, yeah?” Sapnap replies, his voice dropping even lower as his hand slides from George’s shoulder to curl around his hip. “That seems like a pretty fair trade-off.”-----------------------------------------------------------george doesn't think he will ever fully understand american football, but at least he can get kisses out of it
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 381





	we're all winners

**Author's Note:**

  * For [centaurora](https://archiveofourown.org/users/centaurora/gifts).



> this is inspired by that stream where dream and sapnap both ditched george to go watch football
> 
> and also by my girlfriend's attempts to explain american football to my very, very dumb (and very, very british) ass
> 
> what that means is: do not expect me to have got anything about the sport right and just enjoy the gay shit, ok? <3
> 
> as always: entirely fictional, just characters based on them, not saying anything about the guys in real life, pls don't send it to them etc.

“Oh, come on now, George, it’s an important game for us,” Dream says, the sleeves of his sweatshirt pushed halfway up his arms. If George has to make a guess, he’d probably say it’s actually red, but to him it just looks a muddy brown. “It’s Sap’s team against my far superior one. Don’t you wanna see Sapnap get wrecked?”

“I can think of way more fun ways to do that,” George mutters under his breath just as Sapnap walks in from the kitchen with a bowl of crisps - _ chips,  _ George thinks,  _ according to these dumbasses. _

“What’re you saying, George?” he asks as he sits down at the other end of the sofa to Dream and glares at him.

George rolls his eyes. “Nothi-”

“Just talking about how we’re gonna destroy you, that’s all,” Dream cuts in, a smirk on his face.

“Would you shut the fuck up?” George snaps as he grabs a handful of crisps from the bowl on the table. Dream laughs then falls silent. George looks between the two of them for a few moments. “If your teams are meant to be rivals, then why are their colours basically the same?”

It takes less than a second for him to realise that he definitely just made a mistake when Dream whirls on him with a glare.

“They’re not the fucking same, you idiot,” he snaps, red spots high on his cheekbones. George holds his hands up in surrender and tries to hold back his laugh.

“Sorry, man, you know I’m colourblind.”

“Colourblind idiot,” Dream says as he slumps back onto the sofa and folds his arms across his chest. George glances at Sapnap, also trying not to laugh, and rolls his eyes exaggeratedly at him.

Sapnap breaks, the laughter spilling out of him as he clutches at his stomach through his own muddy reddish-brown jumper. Dream turns his glare on him and slowly increases the volume of the TV until it almost hurts. George holds his hands up again then leans against Sapnap’s side until an arm wraps around his shoulders. Sapnap pulls him closer then presses a kiss into his hair.

“You OK?” he asks gently. It’s funny, Dream is the gentlest person George has ever met in absolutely everything other than football. Luckily, he has Sapnap to be soft with during football games. He’s still competitive, especially when it’s games like this - games versus Dream’s team - but he always makes sure to check in.

George shrugs. “Just don’t get this game, that’s all.”

“What don’t you get?” Sapnap murmurs as the players come onto the field to shouts and jeers - partly from the fans on the screen and partly from Dream at the other end of the sofa. 

“Everything?” George whispers back.

“OK, so, there’s eleven players on each team,” Sapnap starts.

“Oh, like football?” George replies, tucking his face into Sapnap’s neck.

“This is football,” Dream cuts into their conversation. “So, yeah.”

“Shut it, Dream, you know what he means.” Sapnap squeezes George’s shoulders and glares at Dream. “Yeah, Georgie, like in soccer. But then you’ve got your quarterback, who’s basically in charge.”

Dream cuts off a shout to add, “That’s what I played.”

“Yes, Dream, we know, you’re very cool and also attractive,” George says drily before turning his focus back to Sapnap to encourage him to go on.

“So, then like, in terms of scoring, very simply,” Sapnap continues, “you get 7 points for a touchdown, which means the player with the ball crosses their end zone. The white lines there, see? Then you get 3 points for a field goal, through the yellow uprights at the back, you get me?”

George nods. He doesn’t really get it, but Sapnap sounds so excited that he can’t disappoint him.

“So, like -”

“How about,” George cuts in, nuzzling his cheek against Sapnap’s soft jumper, “whenever your team scores, you get a kiss?”

“Oh, yeah?” Sapnap replies, his voice dropping even lower as his hand slides from George’s shoulder to curl around his hip. “That seems like a pretty fair trade-off.”

“Can I get in on that?” Dream asks with a grin.

George pretends to think for a minute, screwing his face up in faux-concentration. With a sigh, he finally says, “Fine, I guess you can.”

Sapnap laughs against George’s hair as Dream clutches his own chest.

“You wound me, gorgeous,” he says dramatically as the players take their positions on the pitch. Court? Field? George isn’t sure.

“Hmm, you deserve it,” George replies as he leans across the sofa to press a kiss to Dream’s sweatshirt-covered shoulder. “Egotistical little shit.”

“Oh, am I?” Dream murmurs, taking his eyes off the screen for just a second to glance at George.

“Starting,” Sapnap calls from the other end of the sofa. Dream’s eyes snap back to the screen and George rolls his own eyes before sinking back against Sapnap. He, at least, drops a kiss against George’s hair before turning his concentration to the TV.

George does try to understand as the men on the screen run around after the oval-shaped ball, but he finds himself lost before the first five minutes have elapsed. Both Sapnap and Dream are yelling at the TV as George glances between the two of them in a desperate attempt to work out what’s going on.

“Yes!” Sapnap yells as he punches the air and bounces in his spot on the sofa. “George, kiss me.”

At that, George perks up and leans in for a kiss as the players on the screen return to their positions and the crowd celebrates. Sapnap pulls away far too quickly and George chases his mouth for a second before he sighs and returns to resting his chin on Sapnap’s shoulder.

The game starts up again and Sapnap leans forwards, dragging George with him.

“Come on, come on, come on,” he mutters under his breath. He brings the side of his fist down on his leg as Dream whoops from the other end of the sofa. “Fuck.”

“My turn, Georgie,” Dream shouts, voice far too loud for the size of the room. He grabs George’s wrist and pulls him across the sofa into his arms, pressing their mouths together. It’s off-centre and kind of awful - Dream isn’t paying enough attention to avoid teeth - but George finds himself sinking into it anyway. It’s just so Dream - messy and rushed and passionate and -

“Ahah, suck it, bitch,” Sapnap shouts as Dream pulls away. “You missed the kick.”

Dream flips Sapnap off then goes to pull George into another kiss. George leans back and presses a finger to Dream’s lips.

“Nuhuh,” he says with a smile. “You have to score goals to get kisses.”

“God, I hate you,” Dream replies, but his voice is so soft that it’s obvious he’s saying the opposite. George presses a featherlight kiss to his cheek then moves to sit in the middle of the sofa again.

“Do I get a kiss because he missed it?” Sapnap asks, leaning into him and fluttering his eyelashes. George hums in thought for a second then shakes his head.

“Nope.” He pushes Sapnap’s face away then blows him a kiss. “That’s all you get.”

“Wow, ouch, heartbroken,” he says with a grin as he turns back to the TV.

The rest of the game passes in much the same way - George paying very little attention to the action on the screen until Dream or Sapnap call his name. It’s far more interesting to watch them. To watch them watch the TV and try to guess what’s happening from their reactions.

Dream is louder - as he is in almost everything. He shouts at the screen as if he’s on the pitch with them, calling out names that George can only guess are players’ names or specific plays. Sapnap, on the other hand, stays mostly quiet; he just mutters under his breath until the players are almost within touching distance of the scoreline. At that point, his voice rises steadily until he lets out either a whoop or a cry depending on the outcome.

George finds himself passed between Sapnap and Dream almost as often as the ball on the screen, dragged into increasingly messy kisses as they distract themselves with football and beer.  _ God,  _ George thinks as Dream pulls away from yet another kiss to scream at the TV again,  _ for two bi men, they’re so fucking straight. _

“How much longer is it gonna go on for?” George whispers finally to Sapnap. In response, he gets a short laugh and a gentle squeeze.

“Little while longer, babes,” he replies, “with all the stoppages that this dickhead’s team cause.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Dream snaps, “like your lot are any better.”

Sapnap blows a kiss over George’s head then nods towards the TV. “Might wanna keep an eye on your team, Dreamie.”

“What d’you m-” Dream cuts himself off as the crowd starts screaming and Sapnap whoops loudly. Dream drags a hand roughly through his hair and slumps back against the sofa as he groans, “Fuck’s sake.”

“All evened up now,” Sapnap says with a grin that George can only describe as cheeky. Dream flicks them both off as Sapnap cups George’s cheek to bring him into a kiss. It’s much softer than any of the ones he’s received so far. The hand slips from his cheek to the side of his neck, pulling George closer until he has no choice but to half-climb into Sapnap’s lap. 

Once George breaks the kiss, he glances over at Dream who is glaring between the TV and the two of them, unwilling, it seems, to miss any of either. With a giggle, George extricates himself from Sapnap’s arms and shuffles across the sofa to Dream. He presses a kiss to the side of Dream’s jaw then leans his head against his shoulder. The material of the sweatshirt is soft under his cheek from many washes. He nuzzles into it and is just getting comfortable when Dream leaps up from the sofa with a shout.

“Hah! Suck it bitch boy!” He points at Sapnap with a wicked grin. “Kiss me, Georgie!”

“I was comfy,” George snaps even as he stands up to drag Dream into a kiss that is more teeth and tongue than anything else.

“Aww, poor baby,” Dream murmurs as he pulls away. George slaps his palm against Dream’s chest then tugs him back down to the sofa.

“Sit down, shut up, and hope this game fucking ends soon,” George says as he leans back against Sapnap. At least he’s less likely to jump out of his seat at any random point. Dream pouts at him from the other end of the sofa as he grabs a handful of crisps. It only lasts a moment though, before his eyes are firmly back on the screen.

George watches as the timer in the corner of the screen counts down. It feels like time is moving slow just to spite him. It’s not even that he doesn’t want to take interest in the things his boyfriends like, it’s just that football - American football - is just so  _ complicated.  _ It’s not the first time that he’s tried to sit through a game, but it  _ is  _ the first time he’s not abandoned it halfway through when his brain wanders off to something more understandable.

He shakes his head and tries to focus on what’s  _ actually  _ happening on the screen. The players in the slightly more red-reddish brown -  _ Dream’s team,  _ George thinks - seem to have the ball and are halfway down the pitch with it. He can hear Dream’s litany of encouragement from the other end of the sofa as Sapnap clutches at George’s leg, his fingers digging in slightly every time one of the more orange-reddish brown players comes close to the guy with the ball.

They don’t manage to stop him though and he runs across the touchdown line at the far end of the pitch.

“Damn,” Sapnap groans as Dream cheers and tugs George towards him.

“We’ve basically won now, baby” he says into the kiss. George pulls away and raises an eyebrow.

“There’s no  _ we,  _ Dreamie,” he replies, “I actually quite like the orange team.”

“You can’t even see orange!” Dream laughs.

“He can’t see red either, dumbass,” Sapnap says then nods towards the screen. “You might wanna see this though.”

Dream turns towards the screen, hands still on George’s hips. George glances over his shoulder just in time to see the ball sail through the uprights at the end of the field.

“That’s an extra three points, isn’t it?” he asks. The frown on Sapnap’s face disappears as he nods wildly.

“Yeah, that’s right, dude,” he says in a rush. “You remembered?”

George shrugs. “You’re a good teacher.”

“And with that adorable moment out the way,” Dream says with a grin, “I want my extra kiss.”

George heaves a sigh and murmurs, “Fine.”

Dream kisses him sweetly, pulling away after a moment and stroking George’s hair off his face. “Love you, baby,” he says, his voice low and as sweet as the kiss itself.

“You too,” George replies, his face flushed as he shuffles back to the middle of the sofa. Sapnap reaches out and tangles their fingers together. When George glances over, he smiles.

“Proud of you for remembering,” he whispers.

Face still flushed, George shoots back, “Shut the fuck up, would you?”

Sapnap’s loud laugh drowns out the commentator and Dream groans.

“You made me fucking miss that.”

“As if it was important,” Sapnap replies.

George waves his hands dismissively at both of them. “The longer you argue, the more you’re gonna miss.”

Dream huffs and slumps back into the sofa. “Hate you, Sap.”

“Hate you too, dumbass.”

“Good,” George says, squeezing Sapnap’s hand and nudging Dream’s leg. “We’re all friends again.”

The last portion of the game passes quickly, the countdown ticking down steadily -  _ at least the time seems to go slightly quicker when I’m actually concentrating _ , George thinks. Just as the end is about to be called, Dream leaps out of his seat again with a whoop.

“We fucking did it!” he yells, whirling on Sapnap and pointing at him. “You suck! We won! We’re the champions and you’re absolutely nothing!”

“Woooooow,” Sapnap drags the word out as Dream continues to celebrate, “you’re a massive dick.”

Dream stops his ridiculous celebratory dance. “Is that why you like me so much?”

Sapnap and George groan as Dream grins wickedly.

“You’re a freak,” George says as he shifts his weight towards Sapnap.

“But you love me anyway?” Dream asks sweetly, fluttering his lashes.

George just shrugs as he pulls Sapnap into a kiss, pressing into the sofa cushions as he kneels up next to him. The kiss is slower and softer than the ones throughout the game; Sapnap relaxes into it and lets George lead, his hands resting gently on George’s narrow hips.

“Wait,” Dream’s voice cuts their kiss short, “I won. Why is  _ he  _ getting kisses?”

“Because, just like you said,” George starts, “you won. Sapnap lost. I don’t want him to be sad and so, kisses.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Guess you shouldn’t have been a dick,” Sapnap says as he guides George’s mouth back to his. George finds himself in Sapnap’s lap again, knees digging into the cushions on either side of Sapnap’s hips instead. A click comes from behind George and he breaks the kiss to check what it is.

Dream stands in the middle of the room behind them, phone held up in front of his chest. “Give me kisses too, or I post it on  _ Twitter _ .”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Sapnap says, his voice low but full of laughter.

“Urgh, fine,” Dream drops the phone onto the coffee table and holds up his hands. “You caught me, of course I wouldn’t. But I still want kisses.”

George rolls his eyes and shakes his head, but still moves out of Sapnap’s arms to tug Dream closer by his beltloops.

“Come here, idiot,” he says as he stretches up to curl his hands around the back of Dream’s neck and pull him down into a kiss. Dream turns gracefully and together they fall back onto the sofa, George half-sprawled across Dream’s chest. After a moment, Sapnap whines and tugs gently on George’s shoulder until he moves back. As soon as he does, Sapnap leans in and kisses Dream hard, like he’s been waiting to do it the whole time. With the sound of the football game still running in the background, George watches his two favourite people in the world. 

“This way,” Dream murmurs breathlessly as they break the kiss, “We’re all winners.”

Sapnap laughs, “God, you’re so fucking lame.”

**Author's Note:**

> statistics show that only a very small percentage of the people who read my fic actually leave kudos, so if you enjoy this fic, please leave kudos - it's completely free and you can always... well, actually no, you can't change your mind but do it anyway pls? <3
> 
> also, as always, my twitter is @/holographiccs pls come talk to me about these dumbasses


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